Dawn broke over Valthorne with a sharpness that promised trouble, its light glinting off Reginald's polished armor. The rival duke stood atop a hill overlooking Eldoria, his wiry frame rigid with fury, his gaudy purple cape snapping in the brisk morning wind. His gray eyes burned with a venom honed by months of humiliation—goblins distracted by chips, a chimera tamed by a pillow, a merchant's scheme drowned in a bazaar of trades. Each failure had chipped away at his pride, and now, flanked by a mercenary army, he aimed to crush Kaneki's lazy reign once and for all. Steel gleamed in the rising sun—swords, spears, shields—hundreds strong, their boots churning the dew-soaked grass into mud as they marched toward Eldoria's borders. Reginald raised his jeweled staff, its gem flaring red, and snarled, "Today, that slothful fool falls!"
In Eldoria, the morning was softer, the city waking to birdsong and the clatter of early vendors. Duke Prince Kaneki Nohara lounged in his garden, sprawled across a hammock strung between two oaks, his crimson robe tangled around him like a cocoon. A goblet of grape juice balanced on his chest, sloshing faintly with each sway, and his slippers dangled from the hammock's edge, one already lost to the grass below. His sister, Hana, sat cross-legged nearby, sharpening her staff with a whetstone, her braid swinging as she worked. The goblins huddled under a bush, munching leftover chips, while the devil lounged on a boulder, nibbling a scone. The chimera dozed outside the gate, its snores a low rumble, and Lirien, the spectral bard, floated above, strumming a lazy tune on his glowing lute. The Laid-Back System chimed: *"Task: Enjoy a quiet morning with friends. Reward: 15 Relaxation Points."* Kaneki sipped his juice, smirking. Life was good—until it wasn't.
The garden gate burst open, and Sir Grumble charged in, his armor clanking like a dropped anvil, his face flushed with panic. His sword was already drawn, its blade catching the light, and sweat beaded on his brow despite the cool air. "Your Grace!" he shouted, voice hoarse. "Reginald's attacking! Mercenaries—hundreds of them—crossing the river now! They'll be at the walls in an hour!"
Kaneki groaned, letting his head loll back. "Seriously? Before breakfast? Guy's got no manners." He sipped his juice again, unfazed.
Hana grinned, hopping up. "Finally, some action! I'm in—let's kick his shiny butt."
Grumble's eyes widened, a vein throbbing at his temple. "This is no jest, Your Grace! He's got an army—trained killers, not goblins or ghosts! We need to rally the guards, fortify the gates—"
"Fortifying's work," Kaneki interrupted, rolling out of the hammock with a reluctant thud, juice sloshing onto his robe. "Let's just… handle it my way." The system pinged: *"Bonus Task: Face a threat with minimal enthusiasm. Reward: 10 Relaxation Points."* He smirked, brushing grass off his slippers, and glanced at his crew. "You lot up for a field trip?"
The devil grunted, crumbs falling from its jaws. "If there's food after." The goblins chirped, waving chip bags, and Lirien's lute twanged an eager note. The chimera stirred, yawning, its lion head roaring softly. Hana twirled her staff. "Duh," she said. "Beats sitting around."
Grumble groaned, sheathing his sword. "You'll be the death of me, Your Grace. Fine—your way. But I'm coming too."
They trudged to the eastern wall, Kaneki leading at a leisurely pace, his robe trailing mud. The city buzzed with alarm—townsfolk peering from windows, guards scrambling to the ramparts, their spears glinting in the sun. Beyond the river, Reginald's army advanced, a dark tide of steel and banners, their war cries echoing across the valley. Kaneki leaned against the wall, squinting. "Huh. Fancy. Too bad I hate mornings."
Reginald's voice boomed, amplified by his staff. "Kaneki! Face me, you idle wretch, or watch your city burn!"
"Burning's loud," Kaneki muttered, then cupped his hands. "Hey, Reggie! How about a picnic instead? I've got snacks!"
The duke's face purpled, his staff sparking. "Attack!" he roared, and the mercenaries charged, splashing through the river, their boots pounding the earth.
Grumble drew his sword. "Your Grace, now what?"
"Watch," Kaneki said, grinning. He turned to his crew. "Let's roll. Hana, you're up."
Hana whooped, sprinting forward with her staff, slamming it into the ground. The impact sent a shockwave of mud splashing into the front line, slowing them with squelching boots. The goblins scampered after, hurling bags of chips—some bursting midair, showering the mercenaries with salty chaos. A few stumbled, distracted, snatching crumbs from the ground. The devil lumbered in, tossing scones like grenades, their sweet scent luring more off course. "Eat and leave!" it bellowed, grinning with fanged delight.
Kaneki waved Lirien forward. "Your turn, bard." The ghost floated over the wall, his lute strumming a drowsy melody laced with his Supreme Nap Aura's power. The notes drifted, softening the mercenaries' shouts, their eyelids drooping as they slowed. Some slumped into the mud, snoring, swords slipping from their hands.
The chimera roared awake, charging with its pillow still clutched in its jaws, bowling through a dozen men like a furry boulder. They scattered, shouting, as it plopped down mid-field, nuzzling the fluff and napping atop a pile of dazed foes. Kaneki chuckled, pulling a sack of dried fruit from his robe and tossing handfuls over the wall. "Lunchtime, guys! Take a break!"
Reginald shrieked, his staff flaring red. "Fight, you fools! Not nap!" But the tide turned—mercenaries tripped over sleeping comrades, slipped in mud, or paused to munch on fruit and scones. The battlefield devolved into a bizarre picnic, war cries replaced by yawns and chewing. Grumble swung his sword, knocking out a few stragglers, but even he couldn't hide a grin.
Kaneki flopped onto the rampart, activating his aura fully. A warm wave rippled outward, blanketing the field, and the last of the mercenaries sank to their knees, dozing or dazed. Reginald stood alone, cape flapping, staff sparking uselessly. "You… you indolent cur!" he spat, shaking with rage.
"Yep," Kaneki called, yawning. "Wanna join? Got tea back home."
Reginald's scream echoed as he turned, fleeing across the river, his army abandoned in a snoring heap. The townsfolk cheered, spilling from the gates with blankets and baskets, turning the battlefield into a literal picnic. Kaneki's crew regrouped, Hana twirling her staff, the goblins collecting scattered chips, the devil munching a mercenary's dropped bread, Lirien strumming a victory tune, and the chimera napping atop its pile.
The system chimed: *"Task: Defeat an army with minimal effort. Reward: 60 Relaxation Points."* Kaneki stretched, juice-stained robe and all. "Told you—snacks beat swords."
Grumble sheathed his blade, shaking his head. "Madness. Brilliant madness."
"Best kind," Hana said, nudging Kaneki. "You're nuts, bro."
Back in the garden, they feasted—tea, fruit, scones, chips—sprawled under the oaks as the sun climbed higher. Reginald's revenge had crumbled, Eldoria stood, and Kaneki's crew grew tighter, their laughter ringing through the trees. He leaned back, eyes half-closed, and let the points tally up. Another day won, no sweat required.
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